I was away for a while (teaching overseas -- not military, jail or work release) and have readjusted to America's fascination with driving obediently down the middle of highway lanes, only making u-turns at designated spots and parking neatly between the stripes in a lot (I just got busted, with a warning thankfully, for an untidy parking job in my college lot) not to mention women wearing super-tight denim shorts. But what did I come back to, Dogpatch?

I just moved back to my townhouse after renting in various places for 6 years. In fact, I just calculated that I moved 5 or 6 times during that time so I'm busy re-discovering all sorts of books, calendars, photos, notes and what-not in boxes stored throughout the pad. Most recently I found a recipe for cooking perch from my mother and a theatre program called "Sin, Sex and the CIA" from a private compound production in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

What I’m doing with my life

Teachin', writin'

Here are some writin's:(not sure how that other stuff got in there with all the emoji's...since deleted)Saudi ArabiaCairoJoe d'Pope...and other drolleries

Some stories of mine you might like: "Fried Bologna Surprise" "If I Were King of the World," "The Tao of Wile E Coyote", "On Being Eight Again." I'm also working up a sort of rambling oral rendition of an old Arabian Nights tale involving a genie, a sultan and a cobbler who strikes it rich. It may take 15 minutes...or two hours...to present, depending on our moods and how much oral renditioning you can stand.

Or I can just read to you. Pick your book.

I spend a lot of time thinking about

ketchup...

Sort of.

Well, OK, salt! Happy now?

I like to see the world in a grain of salt.

On a typical Friday night I am

...what i yam.

Extra points if your profile does not include these death-defying phrases: "love to laugh" (or worse, "luv 2 laff"), "Midwest values," "easy going," "no drama," "glass of fine wine" (like you won't touch anything without plum notes and a buttery almond finish), "can go from jeans to little black dress" (what is this, a photo shoot?)...and while we're on that subject, photos of you with your besties laffing it up.

I know this isn't about Friday night; I just decided to rebel a bit.

The most private thing I’m willing to admit

Well, there was this time in Istanbul...wait! you're not going to trick me again.

(And by the way, if you answered "Why would I answer something private?" or words to that effect, perhaps you could read the heading again: It doesn't say you need to reveal any deeply private thing; it says, what are you willing to admit. See how that works?

If you're not willing to play the game, why not just ignore this item?)

Oh, and I can breathe underwater. (But only the exhaling part so far.)